


My Fantasy Girl

by Dirty_Corza



Series: I'll Be Holmes For Christmas [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Corsetry, Crossdressing, Fluff, M/M, Sex, but when your husband enjoys it that much he deserves a thank you card, it's awkward to get that from a brother in law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirty_Corza/pseuds/Dirty_Corza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mystrade christmas, John and Sherlock give the best presents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Fantasy Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Written for geniusbee on tumblr. :D
> 
> Also: same christmas as time by moonlight, but they are both stand-alones.
> 
> Polyvore set I made for Lestrade: http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=41493053

“It's Christmas.”

Lestrade heard the words. Heard them, and immediately discounted them as immaterial. He was in bed, deliciously curled around Mycroft, being the big spoon for once, and he wasn't going to give this up for a little thing like _presents_. “Don't care.” he mumbled, nuzzling against Mycroft's neck. “No work, get to sleep in, get to be naked in bed. With you. Don't wanna get up, dressed, for not you naked.” He didn't care that his words made hardly any sense, even to himself. He was just waking up, and could he help it if his brain took half an hour to warm up?

He heard an answering chuckle, and felt rather than saw Mycroft trying to turn.

“No you don't.” his arms tightened on his lover's chest, holding him there, and grinding slightly against his ass. “I like this position. For now. Five more minutes?” He knew keeping Mycroft in bed was a hopeless task, but he felt the need to stay like this a little bit longer. It was so nice, and warm, and naked, and he really wished they could get more of it. But between his schedule, and Mycroft's, mornings with a bit of a lie in and cuddle were few and far between.

“Five more minutes. But remember, we have to get up sometime, and this afternoon we should drop in on Sherlock and John to wish them congratulations.” The tenseness in Greg's shoulders dissipated as Mycroft relaxed against him once more. Good. His husband was behaving, for once. Another thing he liked about the holiday.

“Nope. Give them a call, sure. But this is our anniversary, three years now, My. And I am not going out on our anniversary unless the flat is burning down.” he pressed soft kisses to Mycroft's shoulder and neck as he went, worshiping the pale, soft skin.

“Mm... When you put it that way...” Greg grinned at his reply. He was getting Mycroft to submit to him, just a little, and in a purely romantic way. It was great, Mycroft letting him have some control over their personal lives. And he'd be lying if he tried to say it didn't make it easier to let Mycroft dominate the sex when he got to be in charge of the cuddles and dates.

The five minutes turned into half an hour of snuggling together before Mycroft finally insisted they get out of bed, even if they didn't get dressed. Not getting dressed was his giving into a pout from Lestrade at the very idea of having to put _clothes_ on on his anniversary. It was supposed to be a day filled with cuddles and sex, and he'd do his best to keep it that way, even if they did have to do Christmas-y things like open gifts. Well, that was really the only Christmas-y thing that they had to do.

The gifts included pajamas from Mrs. Hudson, dark gray for Mycroft and light gray for Greg. Anderson got them a joint gift of tickets to a traveling fossil show, and Donovan got them matching ties. Next, they opened the gifts from Anthea, a new leather jacket for Greg, and a gift certificate for delivery cake for Mycroft. They both grinned at that, remembering the last time they had had cake delivered. It had been delicious, well, what they actually ate of it had been.

Next, they had the gift from Sherlock and John. Mycroft picked it up, then passed it to Greg. “It says you have to read this first, and I'm not allowed to.”

That puzzled Greg, what sort of things could his brother-in-laws have gotten for the two of them that required Mycroft not to know? As he read the note, he began to understand. It was a gift much like the one he and Mycroft had put together for them. One that was custom to a few personal kinks. Only this was just for him. Well, mostly for him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he would remember that conversation with John, mostly drunk, admitting that sometimes it just felt so good to wear a corset, and lace underwear, with fishnets and heels. Apparently John hadn't forgotten, and had even shared this detail with Sherlock, though not Mycroft.

That was something he was very grateful for, as he could feel the flush in his cheeks just thinking about putting on whatever it was they had in this package for him. “I'll um, be right back.” he said, standing and taking the package with him.

“Where are you going?” there was a bit of worry in Mycroft's voice, and it made Greg feel weak in the knees.

“I'll be right back, love. It just... Needs a demonstration.” he leaned down, capturing Mycroft's lips in a chaste kiss, resisting the urge to give in to it with abandon. “Just wait, love. Until this is on veiw. You'll love it. Well, I hope you will.” the blush was back with a vengeance as he stood again, hurrying into the bedroom, knowing full well that Mycroft would be able to tell that something about this present was exciting him.

When he finally opened it, he was speechless. How the hell had John and Sherlock known exactly what he'd want to wear for Mycroft? A soft black leather corset with no bust, navy blue lace panties that would be hard pressed to hold his cock without an erection, fishnet stockings, and a navy garter belt, and the shoes. He knew he hadn't mentioned his thing for leather and straps, but they were perfection. So distracted was he by them he almost didn't notice the studded bracelets and leather and chain necklace sitting politely at the bottom of the box.

He took his time putting it on, adoring the feel of it all against his skin. He knew he probably looked somewhat ridiculous, but he didn't really care. He felt gorgeous. He smiled as he gave himself one last look in the mirror. With any luck, Mycroft would forgive him for taking so long, just by the site of him. “Alright. I'm ready to come out. Close your eyes.” He took a practice step of his strut before confidently strolling down the hall to their sitting room where Mycroft waited, obediently sitting with his eyes shut. “Open them.” he whispered, eagerly awaiting a hopefully good reaction from his husband.

He wasn't disappointed. Mycroft was looking at him with an expression he hadn't seen since the delivery cake incident. With a deep breath, he took the last steps to stand right before him, delighting in the way Mycroft's dick got visibly more aroused as he watched his slight hips sway. He didn't normally have a walk that showed off his hips, but the heels added to that, and he was very grateful for them.

“How long have you enjoyed..” Mycroft spoke with a hoarse voice, as if it was hard to speak, and it thrilled Greg to hear it. Instead of finishing his sentence, he gestured at Greg, his outfit, his everything, and Greg's face flushed again as he realized what was being asked.

“Well, started in college, but I never really found a partner that appreciated...” he trailed off with a moan, distracted by the way Mycroft was licking his lips and clenching his hands into fists. “Touch me.” he growled, an order, one of the few he had ever given to his husband. With eagerness, his husband complied.

Mycroft's hands were everywhere. Stroking up his stockinged legs, down over the leather of his shoes, caressing his ass through the lace, gripping his corseted waist. It was heavenly. And then his mouth joined in the fun, kissing first his wrists, then up his arms to his shoulders, so his neck where his teeth teased between the chains. And then he was moving down his chest, biting nipples as he passed them by. Finally, he reached what he apparently decided was his goal, gently pushing aside the lace totake Greg's hard member into his mouth.

“M-m-my!” he cried out, arching his back to thrust into that heavenly mouth, and almost loosing his balance on the heels. “N-no. God, your mouth is amazing, but, can't last and, and I want you inside me. Over the table, please!” He was grateful Mycroft was listening to him today as he pulled away with a nod.

“Take off the panties. Leave the rest.” Greg shivered at the tone of voice the words were spoken with. It sent another jolt of desire to his core, and he knew he would be finished embarrassingly soon, no matter how they did this.

“Don't bother preparing me, My. Just, slick yourself up, I need you. I need this.” He spoke as he went to the table, bending himself over it, spreading his legs as he balanced on the stiletto heels. He had been smart and put the panties on over the garters, so it had been a simple thing to step out of them on his way.

“Whatever you want, love.” Mycroft's voice was a deep growl, and Greg shivered in anticipation. Then he felt it, the slicked head of his lover's cock at his entrance, and then one forceful push later, he could feel it all the way inside. “You're so tight around me, god, Greg. If you can take this, I'll have to forgo the preparation more often.”

“Please~” he begged, not minding at all how needy he sounded. Was he asking for Mycroft to fuck him like this more often, or for him to start _fucking_ him? He didn't really know, and he had a feeling it was for both.

“God, yes, love.” In and out he began to steadily thrust, not even needing much adjusting for their heights because of the way Greg had spread himself out for him. Greg himself was moaning in pleasure, the position not only letting Mycroft get in deep and hard, but also causing him to stimulate his prostate with every thrust.

“More, please, My, more more, I need _more_.” His lover obeyed, thrusting with abandon, and bringing him up to the edge of orgasm, holding him therewith a hand tugging at the chains of the necklace.

“Now.” the whispered word was as good as any forceful order, and Greg let himself come undone, shuddering with his release as Mycroft still pounded into him, before joining him in post-orgasm bliss.

“Couch.” Lestrade mumbled, and Mycroft led him over, sitting him own before fetching a towel to clean themselves off with.

“You're beautiful like this.” he murmured as he delicately removed all signs of their pleasure from the clearly expensive ensemble. “I think we should, well, If you'd like to, I'd like to do it some more? Get you a more... Expansive wardrobe?”

Greg grinned, pulling him in for a small kiss. “Yes, please. Now, I've just had one hell of an orgasm, and could use some breakfast. Would you mind serving the cake?”

“With pleasure.”


End file.
